Book Review: These Violent Nights

This one packs a lot more between its pages than I had originally anticipated. There’s a slow burn. There’s trauma. There’s fighting for your right to live and fighting for those you love. And magic and multiple dimensions and and and- yeah, there’s a lot. All of which adds up to a really, really fun read.

By Rebecca Crunden. Buy it on Amazon! :3

Once upon a time, inhabitants of another world tore a hole through the universe and came to Earth. They called themselves Suriias, and rivalled humans in knowledge and skill with one great exception: they had magic.

War followed. Humanity lost. And three hundred years later, humans are on the brink of extinction.

Orphans Thorn and Thistle live in hiding. They are the last of their families, the last of their friends. They scrape by, stealing to survive and living on the streets or hiding in sheds. But even under the brutal regime of the Suriias, there are places where humans can mingle in secret with magical sympathisers, and one night Thistle gets an unexpected offer of marriage from a Suriia with high standing and friends in all the right places. For Thistle, it’s a chance at safety and comfort; for Thorn, it’s a chance to find the ones who killed her parents.

And so the pair move into the capital city of Courtenz. An urban monstrosity of magic and might, false friends and flying cars, drones and death tolls, the new city promises a fresh start – and new love – for both.

But if there’s one thing Thorn knows for certain, it’s that dreams can swiftly turn into nightmares.

These Violent Nights begins with Thorn. We get to know the world through her eyes, which means we see the horrors she’s lived through and follow her as she claws her way ever forward, relentlessly seeking to avenge her parents. But we also find her doubting as she is faced with two Suriias who aren’t quite like any other. While the rest of the world seems to want her dead, these two want her to find comfort and peace.

Especially Kol.

Thorn’s drive for revenge is in stark contrast with how Kol slowly proves himself to her, whether that’s by showing her small acts of kindness (chocolate, movies, walks in pretty parks), or risking himself for her. It’s all very I’m kicking my feet under the blankets and making Taff noises and I am convinced that Thorn’s and Kol’s slow burn will forever be embedded in my memory. It’s really well done, okay? The best part? Thorn never loses sight of what she wants: freedom and the company of humans. Sometimes it frustrated me and I would have loved to shove them together and demand they get over it, but I am glad that Rebecca allowed Thorn her integrity.

And then, just when things really come to a boil for Thorn towards the middle of the book-

-we meet Lucien as our new point-of-view character. He is Surii. And he is here to show us that this one Earth full of unmeasurable cruelty is only one side of an awful, awful coin. Much like Thorn, Lucien has lived a life full of bloodshed and loss. But while Thorn only had herself and her sister to look after and was driven by the need to avenge her parents, Lucien looks after his family, his pack. His motivation is keeping them safe at all cost. Which, eventually, leads to Thorn’s and Lucien’s worlds colliding.

There’s another romance subplot woven into Lucien’s part of the story and it looks at the complicated relationship between a human and Surii from a different angle than what we saw with Thorn and Kol. This time, it felt like we focused more on the power imbalance between the two, which gave me a better understanding of why Kol often did what he did and why he didn’t press Thorn as much as he could have.

But romance is by far not the only thing this book has going for it! The world is built well; the characters that inhabit it are complex in all their flaws; the conflicts we explore prove heart-wrenching; and the eventual conclusion is satisfying.

Okay!

How many hearts does it get? 4 1/2 out of 5.

And what can you expect (or not expect)?

  • Slow burn times two :3
  • Queer!
  • Flawed characters that stick to their convictions
  • Magic! It’s mostly subtle at first, but we experience more of it later
  • No explicit sex scenes (this ace Taff is grateful)
  • Mention of sexual assault, but every instance is handled with grace
  • Flying coaches! But also steampunk trucks. Two very good things.
  • Happy Ending

Yep, I recommend this book. I really do. And I cannot wait to read more from Rebecca, honestly.

’till next time.

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Dying Light: Latchkey Hero [complete on my shelf]

I posted the first chapter of my Dying Light Fan Fiction in April 2016. Back then, the last thing I expected was to one day have all three seasons printed and living on my shelf. They’re gorgeous.

But here they are. Season One is the chunkiest at 403 pages. Volatile came out at 329. #SaveHarran concluded at 322. *dialup noises while Taff does math*

That’s 1054 pages! I am stupidly proud. Next stop? Finishing and printing Aphelion’s first book!

Dying Light: Latchkey Hero
Dying Light: Latchkey Hero
Dying Light: Latchkey Hero
Dying Light: Latchkey Hero

Based on Dying Light by Techland.
Words by me (can read them here).
Covers by the fantastic @nikoschrissis
Typesetting by @hermit-writes

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Aphelion! Progress!

When I began to write Aphelion I hadn’t honestly believed I’d get near its end. Or even around that hump in the middle. Which is why I’m so surprised that I finished drafting the entirety of episode 4 yesterday and how there are only three chapters after this until the book is entirely finished.

It’s a bit overwhelming, really.

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Book Review: Dust & Lightning

A fast-paced (but not rushed) science-fiction adventure which follows an ordinary man off to do the extraordinary for his brother.

By Rebecca Crunden. Buy it on Amazon! :3

I am tenderly awarding this book four and a half hearts! Plus an extra paw. Why a paw you may ask? Well, I’ll get to that in a bit. First, the book’s summary:

In the near future, humans have gone beyond simple space travel. By the year 4054, multiple solar systems are inhabited, and taking a spaceship is as commonplace as taking an aeroplane.

Unfortunately, not everything about the future is so advanced. The central planets, led by Earth, have risen high at the expense of cheap labour on distant worlds. Dissent is widespread and arrests are common. Sometimes prisoners are released; sometimes they disappear without a trace, sent to labour camps in other solar systems.

When Ames Emerys receives a letter telling him that his brother Callum has died en route to the remote planet of Kilnin, he takes the first ship he can off Earth, desperate for answers. But the secrets Ames uncovers prove far more dangerous than he could have imagined.

And trouble isn’t far behind.

Dust & Lightning is 122 pages of expertly paced dystopian science fiction. And if my dog, Loki, is to be believed (and he is), it is also extremely captivating. See, I read in bed. Sometimes that confuses Loki because the lights are on and I am not sleeping as I should, which means he’ll be looking at me from between his paws like I just committed a crime. And have you ever tried to read while there is a dog judging you? It’s distracting.

So I started reading the book out loud to him for a while and aaaa you should have seen his face. He perked up, ears and all, got his big and alert puppy dog eyes out, and listened very intently while the tip of his tail did a little wag. He loves the book is what I am trying to say, which I fully understand. I do too!

There’s so much to love in these 122 pages. Driven on by a letter insisting that his brother is dead, but convinced that there is more to it than what everyone wants him to believe, Ames (our protagonist) is thrown into a world of cruel conspiracies. He chases the only lead he has, all the way across the solar system and beyond, all the while desperately trying to stay one step ahead of the people who’d vanish him if they caught up with him. On that journey, we get to see what sort of man Ames is, what his principles are, how far he’d willing to go for the people he cares about, and why he should not ever be allowed to name a cat.

The world-building in the book is excellent. Not a single word is wasted and everything mentioned has meaning and builds towards a greater whole. The characters are immediately memorable, from our protagonist all the way down to the supporting cast. We’ve also got an amazing friendship shaped between a man and a woman, one that doesn’t rely on attraction (something I love dearly). And have I mentioned the prose?

No?

Well, there’s a sample from the first few pages of the book, which I hope gives you an idea what sort of treat you’re in for:

Each new discovery prompted exploitation, greed, uprisings. Like humans were in an abusive relationship with the universe.

Bottom line: If you like dystopian sci-fi and have a thing for adventures where a small group stands up against a corrupt and ruthless regime, then I absolutely recommend this book. It has mystery. Chase scenes. Friendship. Weird bugs. A cat. And an electric ending.

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Of media representation, middle age, and, you guessed it, Dying Light of all things.

I’m not very good at writing about myself. In particular, I’m not very good at sharing me with the public, though I suppose what I’d like to say here isn’t all about me. It’s about growing older, in general. It’s about being a woman, single, and about to reach forty in only two months and about having become crucially (and painfully) aware of it.

Which, I assume, others else out there may relate to.

And I’d be lying if I’d say I have everything under control in my life; the opposite, really. It’s been rough, on and off, even without having to deal with an underlying anxiety condition and PTSD. So when it dawned on me that I was about to be forty, I struggled. Boo, Taff, the brain weasels chittered. You’ve got no family of your own. Boo, Taff, you’ve got nothing to show for so late in your life. Boo, Taff, what even are you? The answer to the latter is simple: a disaster ace who thought she’d made peace with being alone, but who was suddenly overcome with shame for not having grown up.

Whenever I am not working, I spend my time playing video games, being in love with a fictional man, writing, and mingling with other writers and my friends on a Fan Fiction Discord. That’s not very adult of me, now is it. Since where’s the actual husband? Where’s the one-and-a-half kid? Or where’s the soaring career, since if I’m not working on building a family, I should be working on that. It got rough. And then, on top of that, came the nebulous thought of okay, it’s over now for you, you’ve lived the prime of your life, what good are you now? which kinda blindsided me.

Where was that coming from?

I think I got an idea now, though I may be oversimplifying it: I hadn’t seen myself anywhere in so long, that I had no point of reference to what the next ten years would look like or that they’d be worth it. Media tells me you’re either the plucky young heroine, the love interest, the mother, or the old crone. That space in-between was a void. Or, you know, you’d find the spinster (derogatory). And I hadn’t noticed how I struggled with this until I began to write Monsters, We.

In it, Zofia is in her forties. She’s still who she was when she was twenty though; much like I am still who I was back when I began writing Latchkey Hero and Zofia was so much younger, too. I don’t have to change. I don’t have to be suspended until I hit crone just because I don’t have the whole family thing going for me. My family can be my friends. My life can be playing video games, being in love with a fictional man, and writing. That I’m older means nothing. And I owe no one some sort of compliance to their expectations of adult and middle aged woman and the only measure of success I should hold myself against is whether or not I’ve been kind enough to the people around me to make a positive difference here and there.

And writing about Zofia being older, about her still being loved, about her still living and not just surviving day by day, that matters to me and it has gone a long way to tide me over. It did the unthinkable, really: it settled my anxiety over getting older, because if she can do it, so can I.

So, yeah. I’m once again thanking Dying Light and Kyle Crane for giving me a bridge to walk on. The third one, if we are to keep count. That’s a lot of bridges.

Kyle Crane and Zofia Sirota lying on on a bed made from often mended pillows and blankets
Kyle Crane and Zofia Sirota Crane
art by johdahls

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APHELION: CHAPTER 19, Mercy

This concludes Episode Three!

Marlijn knew she’d come to her last tomorrow.

She’d waited for it. Day by day. Hour by hour, even, and she’d expected it to come much sooner than this. But now it was clear. There’d be no more tomorrows for Marlijn Boerhof.

She pressed her forehead to the hard wall, her searing hot skin desperate for the cool touch of concrete.

It had taken two days for the fever to hit. Another for the tremors to follow. If she’d not been the one shivering and seizing on the cot, she’d have been fascinated by the delay. Ecstatic. Those who fought Deimos for that long were rare; if only some good could come from her clinging on so tight.

Marlijn’s fingers twitched.

No. No good would come from her fighting. 

Her stomach cramped. 

Her leg muscles spasmed. Her joints, her bones, her spine, her tendons; they sang with agony and there was a constant thudding against her ears. With it, came a faint, high pitched wavering tone that would not let up. And the air— the air, it tasted like barbed wire: metallic, sharp, painful.

Marlijn wished to weep.

But He would not let her.

Marlijn knew she’d come to her last tomorrow not only because her body had begun to change, but how He had come to be a constant in her thoughts. He crowded them. Him and his Endless murmurs and whispers.

Mercy, she heard.

       Mercy.

The word bared itself like a bleached bone being broken in half. Mercy that she lived. Mercy that He allowed her thought. Mercy for everyone He’d lead to ruin.

She couldn’t shut him out, and ever since she’d heard Him for the first time— ever since she’d begun to change —Marlijn had wanted to end.

He had refused her. And continued to. Over and over again, He gripped her spine with cold-clawed fingers and made her watch— her eyes wide open —as her body failed to do as she told it to. He stopped her from slamming her head against the wall. From tearing open her arms. He held her prisoner in the failing, tattered shell of her body as much as Dr. Kobvik Eli held her prisoner in his pens.

Marlijn pressed herself tighter to the wall. A mewling sound wormed its way up her throat.

Oh, what she would give for tears. But He did not allow her those, either.

Read Aphelion on Ao3
Explore Aphelion on Campfire

Today we wrap up Episode Three. Which. You know. Is a big deal for me. That puts Aphelion’s first draft at 107170 words altogether, which I did not expect to happen. But here we are 😀

Aphelion will now be paused for a while as I draft Episode Four. I don’t know how long this will take, but oh GOSH, I am maybe three parts/episodes from ending book one and this is EXCITING.

My excited bouncings aside though, please leave all the comments you’d like! Ask me questions, theorize. Anything at all, including pointing out inconsistencies. Like when Varrett told Sophya about how only Castle Guard, Monarch, and Runners are allowed to carry weapons, but we see Ellen with a shotgun. WELL, I HAVE AN EXPLANATION FOR THAT which will make it into draft number two. Ellen’s shotty is loaded with rock salt or an equivalent of it :3

Anyway.

Thank you to anyone who has read this far. Varrett and Sophya and SIN (and Col, and Ellen, and Gabriel, and Sebastian, and our tortured Marlijn) will return soon.

ALL THE LOVE,
Taff

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